


This Ain't No Harlan County Twilight

by Moonshine_Givens, Wargasms



Category: Justified
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Double Penetration, First Time Bottoming, I am so sorry, M/M, Porn, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, and a bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshine_Givens/pseuds/Moonshine_Givens, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wargasms/pseuds/Wargasms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Boyd was very young, he remembers asking his mother, a short time before she died, “Momma, how will I know I’m in love?”</p><p>“Oh, darlin’,” his momma answered, tears springing to her eyes. “People will tell ya all types of romantic fairy tales, but none of them really apply to you. You’ll know you want someone when something deep inside tells you that you must destroy her, consume her alive. You’ll feel the need to see her in pain, to take her and make her yours. But I’m not sure if your kind is capable of love.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ain't No Harlan County Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Set just shortly after they've finished high school.

Raylan is not afraid because he knows these woods and he knows these mines. And because he’s not a damn child to be afraid of the dark.

He comes here every day to make his living, being a miner is the only thing Raylan’s got left in life. He came here tonight to find out what was happening, and to show he’s not afraid.

Somewhere in these woods, for reasons unknown, Raylan’s friend is hiding.

***

There has always been darkness in Harlan. If you’re travelling through those hills, even if the sun is shining high up in the sky, the weather warm and pleasurable, you can still feel it. You wouldn’t be able to connect it to anything specific, or understand it for what it is. You’d probably think it’s all the poverty, the misery haunting these people’s lives; maybe you’d think it has something to do with a history of crime and violence and blood, the ways of the outlaw.

You’d be wrong.

Possibly, you’d think, however fleetingly, that it’s the deep mines ripping through the mountains, tunneling within an ancient land, stealing minerals and awaking ancient secrets.

You’d be right.

***

He’s not alone, Boyd can always tell when everyone’s gone. All the men should be back home by now and he should have been left with the night air and the whispering woods.

Under his bare feet, the earth seems to pulsate. Boyd can see everything: every leaf, every ant, and every tiny seed. He’s used to the absence of light by now, night predators are adapted for it.

He still can’t see the man who’s getting closer, but he can already recognize the scent, and there’s no surprise Raylan would be stupid enough to come looking for death on a moonless night.

***

A long time ago, when the mining company was just starting in Harlan County, more than just coal came to the surface: something living, something cruel, something meant to be hidden and forever buried in the heart of the mountain. At first, the beast was so horrific the mere sight of it would be enough to scare everyone away. But the beast changed, transformed, evolved into a much more subtle enemy. It bred with animals and humans alike, and its progeny didn’t bear any visible marks of the abomination, even though its blood would be forever tainted.

It came to the surface, and it stayed, walking among men.

***

“I thought I told you to stay away, Givens.” Raylan recognizes Boyd’s voice, even if the growl that comes with it could be easily mistaken for an animal.

He frowns; they weren’t that far apart by now, Boyd is nothing more than a shadow, moving among the trees without making a sound. How could Boyd know it was him? Raylan can barely make out Boyd’s figure in the dark, the only point visible being a pair of eyes that, strangely, reflect the light with an incredible intensity.

“Boyd,” Raylan nods, even though he probably can’t see it. “You know I don't take well to orders.”

The growl that comes next is even louder, even wilder, and Boyd’s eyes seem to glow their own – Jesus Christ – red light. It must be an optical illusion, Raylan’s brain supplies.

Boyd replies, anger in his voice, “You damaged in the head or somethin', boy? Your daddy musta knocked that pretty face of yours around too much. This whole town knows you shouldn't mess with a Crowder. We're bad news.” Even as he says it, though, Boyd is moving closer, slowly, hesitantly.

“Whole mountain knows us Givens don't give a shit, neither.” Raylan pushes forward, trying to blink away the red, trying to see through it, but he ends up shivering when the glow persists. Swallowing nervously, Raylan, beyond any good sense, keeps talking. “You sayin’ my face is pretty?”

***

In this town, many rules went unsaid. The law could be shouted, to no avail; but the rules, no. The rules were always silent, and that was a rule in itself. Raylan sometimes wonders if the things he knew he could do and the things he knew he couldn’t were once whispered to him in his sleep, since Raylan can’t remember anyone actually saying them aloud.

The Crowders were cruel, vicious animals, and they should be avoided at all costs. That was one rule. They all knew it, knew that if Bo wanted you dead, you would be ripped apart and your body would never be found again. They all said it was a family trait, that the Crowders were violent creatures with evil intent, ready to kill and destroy, blood in their teeth and flesh under their nails.

No women would ever be a Crowder for long. Girls avoided the Crowder boys at parties and in school, praying they weren’t pretty enough. Once a Crowder liked a girl, she would become his woman; no force in this world would be able to avert that fate. So married, she would soon become a mother then eventually disappear as well, just like one of the Crowders’ enemies.

Raylan’s heard all that, he’s just not sure if he believes all the untold myths of Harlan County. The Crowders were criminals and murders, mutilators and torturers, but that’s just what you get with shitty hillbilly criminals. The Givens family had just as sordid a story of violence without flirting with the supernatural. If Arlo Givens isn’t the devil himself, then Raylan is damn sure Bo Crowder is just another fucked up asshole.

Raylan’s used to human cruelty, you see.

Besides, he knows one of them. Of course, he knows all of them, the whole town knows the Crowders. Thing is, Raylan knows one of them, knows Boyd as well as he knows himself, the intimacy of a friendship formed over years. Boyd Crowder is no evil creature, he’s a crazy son of a bitch who loves fire and understands Raylan. The darkness behind his eyes, the violence he sometimes shows, his undying love for destruction, well, that’s just what being a son of Harlan does to you.

At least, that’s what Raylan believes.

***

Boyd laughs despite himself; Raylan is fucking insane. His hands are itching to grab the body just a few steps away. He can’t do it, though. Boyd knows that if he gets close enough, he won’t stop until he destroys Raylan. “You flirtin', now, Raylan? You should be more afraid of monsters.”

Raylan looks uncomfortable, but Boyd knows that’s more because of the sexual undertone and less about the threat to his life. Fucking insane, really.

“You’re the one who started it,” Raylan says, sounding childish. “Besides, that’s bullshit, Boyd. You don’t have to be like them, you-- you’re not. You’re better. You’ve got good in you…”

Boyd watches as Raylan trails off, looking down and shuffling his feet, uncomfortable with the show of honest emotion. Of course. 

“Not even all the good in the world could change what I truly am.” Boyd feels the moment his self-control snaps, the moment when resisting such an easy target becomes impossible. As if detached from his own body, Boyd invades Raylan’s personal space, faster than humanly possible.

But it’s a moonless night, the mines are just behind him and Boyd is so very far away from humanity.

***

If Raylan had anything left in himself resembling a survival instinct, he would have jumped back when Boyd appeared so close. Or he would have gone home to hide and never speak of it again.

He does neither.

Boyd, surprisingly, just touches his face lightly, finger tracing his jaw line. “I’m certain you don’t need me to tell you how fuckin’ pretty you are, I do believe you have a mirror in your household. Unless, that is, you want me to?”

Raylan is frozen in place by the touch, fighting to keep still instead of pressing into it, mouth gone dry. There’s a growing sense of danger settling over them, and yet Raylan wants to stay here. Anyone else would be running, Raylan thinks to himself, but he wants to reach out for Boyd.

“The girls seem to like it,” is Raylan’s only answer, paired with a shrug of his shoulders.

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say; Raylan realizes this moment it’s out of his mouth. There’s another growl, and this time Raylan can’t believe Boyd actually made the sound. Boyd’s whole body goes stiff and the touch that was so gentle turns into a bruising grip, fingers roughly holding Raylan’s face.

“Maybe you should be with one of them, lickin' pussy like the slut we know you are.”

The tone is harsh and Raylan hides his reaction to the pain, though his body braces for a blow out of instinct and muscle memory. Thanks, Arlo.

Hell, if Raylan’s gonna get his ass kicked tonight, it might as well be from someone he’s not related to, for a change. Raylan forces out a feeble laugh. “Ya jealous of me for gettin’ to lick, or them for being licked?”

“You're playing a dangerous game here, Raylan.” Boyd replies through clenched teeth as he leans in closer. “You come out in the dark looking for monsters and you won’t stop pushing me. What do ya want? To get killed?”

Raylan won’t answer that. He won’t. Boyd leans over, whispering directly into his ear, “You’re gonna have to tell me. What. do. you. want?”

“My friend back!” Raylan yells, unable to ignore his senses for another second and finally trying to pull away. “You went all strange on me a while back, and I let it go ‘cause, shit Boyd, you're my only friend, and I didn't wanna pry if you wasn't inclined to talk. But now it's been too long and you get all prickly anytime I even try to talk to you. What. the. fuck’s. goin’ on?” Raylan imitates Boyd’s pattern of speech, knowing it’ll make Boyd angrier, but needing answers.

Boyd just lets him go with a sigh, though, and Raylan watches as his friend takes a step away, turning from him.

“Crowders don't have friends. We're the beasts that prey upon this land. If that's the only thing your little heart desires, you better go on back the way ya came, before it's way too late.”

Raylan stands there silently, glad Boyd’s not watching; all the shock and hurt written clear on his face.

Arlo has told him the same damn thing countless times. It’s a constant source of contention between them, well, their whole relationship is contention, so. Arlo talks of Boyd as if he is a wild beast that will eventually turn on Raylan. Afterwards, Raylan always told himself that Arlo is a liar and it wasn’t true. Yet here was Boyd himself, saying exactly that.

The hurt boils up, becomes anger easily, Raylan’s self-defense. “Fine. Just turn your back on me. It's what I expected, really. Stupid of me, hopin’ you'd prove me wrong. Go be what they trained ya to be, go be a fuckin’ monster then if you'd just walk away from your only friend. Ain't no one lining up to take my place, ya know!” It’s too much, Raylan knows he’s yelling but he can’t take it and he rushes forward to shove Boyd in the back, hard as he can. “Fuck you then, Boyd!”

“No!” Boyd yells back, and in a blink, Raylan’s on his back in the dirt with Boyd’s forearm pressing against his throat.

***

Boyd can’t say he made a conscious decision to tackle Raylan to the ground. He only realizes what he’s doing when they’re already down and his legs are tightly bracing Raylan’s hips. Boyd’s whole body is shaking, and he has no idea, no fucking idea how to make Raylan just see…

“Fuck you! I never imagined myself sayin’ this, but you're a damn fool, Raylan Givens. You think my family built fear 'round fairy tales and slashed throats, but the truth is much worse. If you knew what lies beneath my skin, you'd be runnin' in the other fuckin’ direction.”

Raylan groans, having hit his head in the fall, breathe knocked out of him and unable to get air as Boyd presses his forearm even harder. It’s a gorgeous sound, really, desperate and pained. Raylan has never been more handsome than he is right now, hands scrabbling at Boyd’s arms uselessly, to punch or even scratch, as he tries to buck Boyd off.

Boyd pretty is sure he shouldn’t find it such a turn on.

“Whatcha doing, hm? Tryin' to escape?” Boyd can’t stop now, he just wants to watch Raylan squirm. “Wasn't that what you wanted all along? To see what's goen on? This,” Boyd easily grips both of Raylan’s wrists in a single hand and, making up his mind, flashes his teeth, teeth he knows must be sharp as knives by now, beast-like, matching his bright red eyes, “is what's goin’ on. You happy now?”

He can feel Raylan shivering with adrenaline and possibly – clearly – fear, his eyes wide, staring up at Boyd, frantically gasping for breath, cornered prey.

“Cat got your tongue?” Boyd asks bitterly. Raylan fears him now, just like anyone else. Just like everyone else. “Will you run now?”

It takes Raylan a moment, a long moment where Boyd watches as Raylan opens his mouth yet no sound comes out, enjoying and hating Raylan’s distress in equal measures. Raylan swallows, licks his lips and tries again, voice broken when he manages to speak. “Did they do this to you? How? Does it hurt?”

Boyd feels laughter erupt again and he knows he must sound half-mad, to match his already horrific image.

“Good Lord Almighty, only you would worry more about the monster than about your own wellbeing. This is what I am, Raylan, don’t you get it yet? This is what I was born to be. The nightmare that crawls in the deep mines, eating my enemies flesh and violating warm, pretty bodies.” Raylan shivers at that and Boyd knows exactly where his mind went. It’s just too delicious to even contemplate, it’s a temptation he wouldn’t be able pass up, so Boyd whispers the next words against Raylan’s jaw, very slowly, “I ain’t gonna give you another warning, boy. You better make up your mind ‘bout whatcha want.”

Raylan raises his face; Boyd sees fear and apprehension. But he also sees defiance there, and ain’t that fucking glorious?

“You won't hurt me,” Raylan whispers back, and turns to catch Boyd’s lips in a heated kiss.

Boyd can’t help but kiss back and the whole thing is a violent matter, as if they’re still fighting, as if they’re about to throw punches. Boyd wants to bite those lips off, wants to taste Raylan’s blood, wants to eat him whole. His hands travel to Raylan’s hair, pulling his head back with a vicious yank, tasting the inside of Raylan’s mouth.

As the kiss goes on, Boyd can’t stop himself from rutting against Raylan, even knowing that soon, sooner than he ever wanted, Raylan will be able to tell something is wrong, something’s abnormal, and then he’ll run away, he’ll escape... Boyd pulls himself back enough to tell Raylan, one last time, “You don’t know what I am, Raylan. If we start this, ain't no goin’ back.”

Raylan freezes, and Boyd waits.

***

Raylan usually rolled his eyes with barely contained irritation every time he caught people reacting badly to Boyd because they believed in those old, stupid ghost stories. They don’t know how interesting Boyd is, more than any of the stupid shits-heads in this fucking place. Boyd is better than any other Crowder to ever walk these hills. Not a single person in town could see how intelligent Boyd is, how his amazing mind works, his unique views and opinions of the world. 

Raylan is the only observer, quietly growing his collections of Boyd’s philosophies like a child collects fireflies in a jar.

So, usually Raylan hates the fear that prevented the world from admiring Boyd. Though, not always. Sitting back with Boyd against a tree, drinking alone with him as the girls in the party avoided the Crowder boy at all costs, Raylan was content. Happy, even, that they were afraid, happy that they were naïve, happy that they couldn’t see what Boyd truly is.

He used to pray it would last forever. Back when Raylan still prayed.

***

“Who you tryin’ to convince here, Crowder?” Raylan finally answers, attempting to pull his hands free and grab at Boyd’s clothes. Raylan needs to get them naked if Boyd is still doubting they’re going to do this. Raylan arches up into the delicious friction with a moan, biting at Boyd’s bottom lip harshly, before pulling away to growl, “It's already started. Fuse is lit, Boyd, fire in the hole.”

Boyd, thank God, stops talking and pulls Raylan back for in another forceful kiss. Raylan manages to get his hands free (okay, so it was more like, Boyd let go) and he tugs Boyd’s shirt up, running his fingers over Boyd’s heated skin.

Not to be outdone, Boyd rips Raylan’s shirt off, the fabric tugging painfully, but at the same time, Raylan finds it undeniably arousing. In fact, if there was any doubt in Raylan’s mind that Boyd was something else altogether, the way the skinny boy easily manhandles him is enough to erase it.

Even as he winces in pain and surprise, Raylan can’t help but be incredibly turned on by the unexpected strength. Never before had Raylan so easily been turned and tossed, and fuck, was that hot.

His hands finally travel down to start work on Boyd’s belt, tugging open the button. Raylan’s kisses turn sloppy as he focuses on unzipping Boyd’s jeans, dying to get his hand in there, wanting so bad to finally be able to curl a hand around Boyd’s…

…what?

Raylan’s hand encounters a humid, almost gelatinous, yet firm, skin and he jerks in shock. He was expecting a much drier, much hotter member (this one isn’t exactly cold, but it isn’t hot either). He was also expecting to find a mushroom head, not a slim, leaking tip; was expecting to touch thick flesh, filled with blood, surely nothing this long nor this… mobile.

In fact, he was also expecting to find one single member, and not… multiples.

Still unable to make sense of it, Raylan quickly shoves Boyd’s pants down, reaching to feel with both his hands now. Raylan would have loved to have a little bit of light right then, just enough for him to see exactly what the… things… looked like. Clearly, though, they weren’t anything like a cock. “Fuck… could warn a guy.”

Boyd has the audacity to laugh. Actually laugh, not that almost-crazy chuckle, but a genuine laugh, as if Raylan’s the funniest. “I did try. That time has passed, I'm afraid.”

Raylan wants to argue that no, Boyd didn’t really try. Boyd kept talking about monsters and genocide and whatever other crap his poetic mind had wanted to say about nightmares. Boyd has said exactly jack and shit about having four (four!) tentacle cocks. Nope. Nada. Raylan would really argue that, but one of Boyd’s members reaches for Raylan’s arm, growing longer and ticker by the second, slowly wrapping itself around his forearm.

“Huh. Well, shit,” is all Raylan can say for a while. And maybe that’s not the best way to react to someone’s genitalia but, really, Raylan should have scored so many points for not running in the other direction, he’s pretty sure Boyd will be able to forgive him. For a few seconds, he can only touch the tentacle lightly, fascinated as he (mostly) feels and watches as it responds to every movement, growing longer still. Raylan’s curiosity wins out and he ends up wrapping his fist around one of them, giving it a slow and – hopefully - sensual squeeze, thumb running through the slick that covers the surface. “This feel good?”

Boyd doesn’t answer, but Raylan can tell it does. Boyd’s eyes are closed, Raylan can’t see the glow of them, mouth parted, he can see the occasional glint off those, and Raylan is pretty sure Boyd would be the most amazing sight ever, if only there was a bit more of light.

“This… damn, this could be a lot of fun.” Raylan decides, mentally giving his common sense a big ‘fuck off’. “How do you– do you come? Do they all come? Are those things gonna get me pregnant if I let you put them up my ass?”

“Pregna– Raylan, where do you get those ideas from?” Before Raylan can answer, though, Boyd stops moving all together, for what it feels like an eternity. Even his tentacles are still and Raylan now can see a pair of blood-red eyes looking at him, shocked and doubtful. “Wait... you still want me to fuck you?”

Raylan could answer he didn’t come this far along to not, well, come at all, but he chooses a more diplomatic approach. “If glowing eyes and crazy teeth weren't enough to scare me away, I think I can, hm… adjust, to the situation, yeah.” Raylan really hopes his body can, at least, and as Boyd goes back to moving over him, Raylan moans softly, jacking the tentacle already in his fist, other hand twisting against the grip of the other member, testing its strength. Raylan wonders if he’s doing alright.

As if to answer his question, Boyd growls deep, groping Raylan even tighter, a hand diving down the back of Raylan’s jeans, squeezing his ass, fingers already trying to find his hole. Boyd’s movements are hurried, and he’s soon tearing the button of Raylan’s jeans away, pulling the pants down Raylan’s long legs with one single movement. Raylan has about half a second to realize he’s lying naked in the dark woods being manhandled by an Eldritch Abomination before two tentacles grow long enough to reach his bare, open thighs.

Raylan also notices he’s quite hard, and there’s no way of hiding this fact from Boyd’s glowing eyes.

“What I wouldn’t give to suck you dry.” Raylan wants to yell ‘yes!’, as he pumps harder on both members in each of his hands, but Boyd is showing sharp teeth again. “Don’t think now is the best time, though.”

Raylan wants to be mad at Boyd’s inconvenient monstrosity, but as a wet appendage rubs against his inner thigh, he really can’t. The only thing he does manage is to moan loudly, rolling his hips to urge the member lower, pulling at Boyd’s hips to get him closer, closer, closer, “Please!”

Raylan’s not even sure he said it out loud but if the fire in Boyd’s eyes is anything to go by, yep, he totally just begged to be fucked.

Any plans Boyd may have had of preparing Raylan go flying out the window in that moment, and Raylan really has no one but himself to blame, begging for it while canting his hips up like a two-dollar whore. He ain’t even sorry, either.

Boyd turns him around with a rough movement. It’s overwhelming how he can simply arrange Raylan as he likes. The man fits against Raylan’s back, and he feels all the tentacles pressing against his body: his back, ass, and thighs. One of Boyd’s hands pulls Raylan’s hair back roughly, exposing his neck and making him choke. The other one, though, thankfully, goes lower, firmly gripping his cock, and Raylan is moaning, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, please,” over and over again, hips rolling in want against the tentacles.

Boyd is biting at his neck, and there’s nothing for Raylan to do besides groan and try to hold still, sharp teeth scratching lightly at his skin. Two of the tentacles are curling around his thighs, impossibly long, wrapping almost all the way around Raylan’s firm legs; long thick wet muscles leaving a wet trail on his skin. It should gross him out, Raylan knows, but as they force his legs wider apart, making Raylan push his ass up, grossed out is definitely not how he feels.

Slowly, so very slowly, Raylan feels two slim tips tracing his crack, delicate touches to his skin, making his eyes flutter shut and his mouth drop wide.

He’s quite sure it shouldn’t feel so good.

“You really want this,” Boyd whispers against the back of his neck, and Raylan gets the impression Boyd is talking to himself, still amazed. Both of his hands are sliding down to hold Raylan’s ass cheeks open, exposing Ralan further. The only warning he gets is a murmured, “Hold on, now,” before two of the members are pressing against his entrance, lubing and stretching him both at the same time.

For a tense moment the tentacles are just a growing pressure, but then they’re slipping in, wet tips curling inside Raylan’s body. It’s the most intense feeling; Raylan can’t even decide if it’s more painful or pleasurable as his head drops forward, hanging from his shoulders while trying to keep his balance.

They seem to move in opposite directions, rubbing and stretching inside him, and yeah, Raylan is now very certain they’re on the more pleasurable side of things. “Boyd, Boyd, fuckin’ hell that feels so good.”

Boyd doesn’t wait for any more encouragement, starts pushing against Raylan with insistence and strength. Raylan can’t help but tense as the tentacles grow thicker and thicker. Pain is building fast, and not even all the sticky substance lubing his muscles makes it easier.

Raylan can feel the two tentacles clearly now as Boyd pushes one then the other in, less than half an inch at a time, but still too quickly for Raylan to get used to it. He never stops, he never pulls back, he just keeps going deeper and deeper, and Raylan’s rim feels like its on fire.

He desperately tries to relax against the invasion, shamefully listening to his own high pitched whines. His fingers are clawing at the ground. It takes every ounce of Raylan’s stubborn pride not to try escaping and instead keep his hips still.

And then, the tips are curling back, pressing right against Raylan’s prostate, and, God have mercy, it feels too good.

The pain is still there. Raylan can’t help but huff and gasp for breath as Boyd relentlessly splits him open, but his cock is now dripping pre-come beneath him from the relentless attention to his prostate and it’s all making Raylan a bit dizzy. It doesn’t take a lot to ignore the pain, even if a part of Raylan’s brain can’t help but wonder if Boyd is going to tear him apart.

***

When Boyd was very young, he didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to discuss certain things. Too young to understand that parts of his life were like a secret chapter of the Necronomicon, never to be mentioned aloud. 

He remembers asking his mother, a short time before she died, “Momma, how will I know I’m in love?”

“Oh, darlin’,” his momma had answered, tears springing to her eyes. “People will tell ya all types of romantic fairy tales, but none of them really apply to you. You’ll know you want someone when something deep inside tells you that you must destroy her, consume her alive. You’ll feel the need to see her in pain, to take her and make her yours. But I’m not sure if your kind is capable of love.”

***

Boyd keeps going, keeps pushing, knowing that Raylan can’t take the whole thing, not tonight, not on his first time, probably not ever. Boyd aches, though, he can’t help but need to be as deep inside as possible, as deep as he can, deeper than anyone else will ever be able to.

Raylan yells in pain.

That gives Boyd a twisted pleasure in and of itself, but the way the yell turns into a moan with a flick of his members is just damn near miraculous.

Boyd wills one of his tentacles to untangle itself from Raylan’s thigh and wrap around his cock, hoping the wetness will be enough to help Raylan get off.

“Fuck, oh God,” Raylan pants before dropping to his elbows, weight on his forearms, and he’s… he is actually pushing back, taking even more, sobbing and humping back onto Boyd’s tentacles, muscles losing tension as Raylan seeks release.

Oh God, indeed.

Boyd finally starts to fuck Raylan, first moving the tentacles one at a time, trying not to stretch Raylan even further. He goes in with one and out with the other, in and out, in and out, a slow pace Boyd keeps telling himself he can maintain. But then Raylan is rocking with him, and Boyd’s control snaps. He pushes both tentacles inside that amazing heat, faster with each violent thrust, the tips of his member tracing wild circles inside Raylan’s willing body, fluids running down Raylan’s thighs as Boyd grips his hips with bruising fingers. Each thrust is accompanied by an obscene squelch.

Raylan screams once again, and it’s anyone’s guess if it’s from pleasure or pain until Raylan lowers his head, muffling the sound against his forearm, body bucking under Boyd, and comes violently, muscles seizing around the tentacles holding him open.

Boyd keeps thrusting, even as he feels Raylan orgasm, Boyd keeps going, persistently pressing harder inside of that sweet depth. Even after Raylan crumbles, tired and spent, yet still holding his hips up, ass presented. Boyd keeps thrusting even though he knows Raylan must be sensitive, that it must be too much now, hurting like hell without the pleasure to distract Raylan. Boyd knows he should stop but he can’t, can’t even contemplate not urging into Raylan, can’t…

“Come inside of me, c’mon.”

It’s barely a whisper but it’s there anyway, and finally all of Boyd’s tentacles explode in pleasure, even the one still tied to Raylan’s thigh, even the one curled around his softening cock, but especially the ones buried inside Raylan’s ass. There’s watery come all over, getting on Raylan’s leg, his abs, his cock, his body.

And of course Raylan would moan as the tentacles inside of him pump him full of liquid. He’s that perfect.

Boyd finally bends over his friend, drained and satisfied as he’s never been before, as he never once allowed himself to be. The tentacles shrink on their own, getting smaller in size and thickness as the orgasm recedes. Finally, all four of them are about the size of a normal flaccid cock, and it’s easy to pull free without hurting Raylan further.

It’s ain’t easy keeping his eyes off, though, and even in the enveloping darkness Boyd can just glimpse the disgraced state of Raylan’s abused ass, wet and open, trying to close but still too damn stretched. Boyd can’t help but slide two of his fingers inside, more roughly than Raylan deserves after being pounded into, but he just has to feel the wetness and heat.

Raylan doesn’t try to move away, only gasps and buries his face even further in his arms, shivering. Raylan’s body just opens for his fingers, no resistance any longer. Boyd feels the come start leaking from Raylan, covering his hand. It’s amazing, and Boyd leans over so he can lick a long trail from the small of Raylan’s back all the way to his neck, pumping his fingers slowly in and out.

“Goddamn,” Boyd marvels and tugs harshly at Raylan’s fucked up hair for no good reason besides because he can. Raylan gives him a shocked grunt but doesn’t otherwise protest. 

Boyd decides Raylan has been tortured enough, though, and turns him around gently, laying him as comfortable as possible on the ground. Again Boyd wishes there was a little more light, this time so he could see how that pretty face looks when its owner has just been fucked senseless.

Raylan groans, dirt probably turning into mud the instant it touches his come smeared skin. It takes him a minute to find his voice, but Raylan finally starts in, “Can’t see a fucking thing. Got no clothes and my knees are killin’ me.” He pauses a beat before continuing, leaving Boyd not entirely certain if Raylan is being a bit shy or coy, “I would never normally admit this but, damn, I’m not so sure I can walk either.”

Boyd laughs and kisses him, sweetly; it’s not even an apology, Boyd ain’t sorry for shit. “I did warn you not to come near the beast, Raylan. There’s always a price to pay for playing with wild things.”

Boyd stops then, blinking around as he realizes that, yeah, it really is hard to see in the dark now, though, before this all started, he could see everything quite well. Boyd’s tongue travels across his own teeth. They’re not sharp anymore, just regular, human teeth. “Raylan, what color are my eyes?”

Boyd knows Raylan must be frowning at him, trying to catch a glimpse of the red glow; Boyd suspects there will be none to catch.

“Told ya I can’t see shit,” is Raylan’s only answer, as he grabs at Boyd’s arm and tries to stand.

Boyd does try to help him, of course, he can be a gentleman, but he ends up stumbling and almost bringing them both back down. He doesn’t feel strong any more, or fast. He feels like an eighteen year old boy who just fucked like a rabbit and wants to sleep a whole week. It’s… normal.

“Hell, I think you just fucked the monster out of me,” Boyd says it jokingly, but also with barely disguised amazement. Smiling, Boyd curls an arm around Raylan’s waist, to support him, and because Boyd’s unwilling to let Raylan go just yet.

“Well,” comes Raylan’s rough voice, wincing as he leans heavily into Boyd. “That’s fairly inconvenient. I was startin’ to like that part of you.”

Boyd can’t contain the happiness that grows inside of him. Raylan gives his affection grudgingly, but at the same time what he’s giving Boyd means everything. Raylan’s able to like even that part of Boyd, even the worst, most terrible, most mean part of Boyd, the parts he’s not supposed to talk about or acknowledge outside the family. And that’s more than Boyd ever thought he would be allowed.

“Oh, Raylan, I'm pretty sure that's just a momentary cure. Give me half an hour and I can go back to bein' your own personal nightmare, 'kay?”

**Author's Note:**

> we are not responsible for any damages readers may have incurred one their journey here, but thank you for reading.


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